Chapter 219 A father’s First Hold

Chapter 219 A father’s First Hold
~Julian’s POV~

I had been staring at the same wall for hours. My apartment was a mess. There were empty bottles on the table, papers everywhere, and the TV was playing the same news clip on mute. It showed my face and Chard’s face the recording that ruined everything I had worked for. I had watched it so many times I could repeat every word I said.

I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything. Especially not see Miranda. When she called me after the baby was born, I shut her down. I told her I didn’t want to be involved. I said I had too much going on and wasn’t ready to be a father. I meant it..or at least I thought I did.

Then my phone rang again. I didn’t recognize the number, but something made me answer.

“Hello?” I said, my voice flat.

“Julian,” the man said. “It’s Paul. Miranda’s friend.”

I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“I want you to stop being a coward,” Paul said directly.

I let out a bitter laugh. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he continued. “Miranda is struggling. She just had a baby—your baby. Instead of stepping up, you’re hiding because your reputation took a hit.”

I sat up straighter, gripping the phone tightly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snapped.

“I know enough,” Paul replied. “I know you slept with her. I know she’s been alone while you feel sorry for yourself. Right now, she’s in that apartment with a newborn, trying to figure out how to survive while you pretend this isn’t your problem.”

I started pacing. “She should have been more careful. We were both drunk. It was a mistake. I didn’t ask for this.”

“Neither did she,” Paul shot back. “But she’s dealing with it. You think she wanted to get pregnant? You think she wanted to raise a child not knowing who the father is? She’s been through a lot, Julian. And instead of helping, you’re making it worse by ignoring her.”

I stopped pacing. His words hit harder than I wanted to admit.

“I’m not ready to be a father,” I muttered.

Paul was quiet for a moment. “No one ever is,” he said. “But that baby didn’t ask to be born. Whether you like it or not, he’s yours. You can keep running, or you can step up and at least see him. That’s all she’s asking. Just see your son.”

I didn’t say anything for a long time. Paul sighed. “I’m sending you the address. If you have any decency left, you’ll show up. If not, we’ll know what kind of man you really are.”

The line went dead. I stood in my living room, staring at my phone. A few seconds later, I got a message with an address. I didn’t move for a long time. Then I grabbed my keys.

The apartment was small, nothing like the places I was used to. I stood outside the door for almost ten minutes before I finally knocked.

When Miranda opened it, she looked exhausted. Her hair was messy, and there were dark circles under her eyes. She held the baby against her chest, wrapped in a soft blue blanket.

She didn’t look surprised to see me. Just tired. “Paul called you,” she said quietly.

I nodded. She stepped aside and let me in without another word. The place was neat but small. A crib was in the corner of the living room. Baby clothes were folded on the couch. It smelled like baby powder and something warm.

I stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with my hands. Miranda walked over to the couch and sat down slowly. She looked at me for a long moment before speaking. “Do you want to see him?” she asked.

I hesitated, then nodded. She stood up and gently placed the baby in my arms.

The moment I held him, something changed. He was so small and lighter than I expected. His tiny hand moved, and before I knew it, his fingers wrapped tightly around my index finger. He held on with surprising strength.

I stared down at him. For the first time in months, something warm spread through my chest. It wasn’t the cold, bitter feeling I had been carrying since the video went viral. It was something else. Something real. I smiled. It felt strange on my face.

Miranda watched me quietly from the couch. Paul stood near the kitchen doorway, also watching. Neither of them said anything, but I could see the small smiles on their faces. I looked down at the baby again. My son.

I had spent so much time running from this responsibility and the mess I had helped create. But holding him now, feeling his tiny fingers wrapped around mine, I realized I didn’t want to run anymore. Not from him.

Miranda spoke softly. “He looks like you,” she said.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My throat felt tight. I sat down on the couch beside her, still holding the baby. He made a small sound and nuzzled closer to my chest. I adjusted my arms carefully, afraid I might drop him.

Paul walked over and placed a hand on Miranda’s shoulder. “I’ll give you two some space,” he said gently. He walked into the kitchen, leaving us alone.

Miranda looked at me. Her eyes were tired but soft. “I didn’t do this to trap you,” she said quietly. “I just… I didn’t want to go through this alone anymore.”

I looked at her, then back at the baby. “I know,” I said, my voice rough. “I’ve been an asshole. I know that. I was angry. At everything. At Chard. At myself. At the world. And I took it out on you.”

She didn’t say anything. She just watched me. I looked down at my son again. His tiny hand was still holding onto my finger like he didn’t want to let go.

For the first time in a long time, I felt something close to peace. “I’m not promising I’ll be perfect,” I said. “I don’t even know how to be a father. But I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

Miranda’s eyes filled with tears, but she smiled. “That’s all I wanted,” she whispered.

I looked at her for a long moment. Then I looked back at the baby in my arms. For the first time since everything fell apart, I didn’t feel completely lost. I felt like maybe, just maybe, I had found something worth holding onto.